Cape
by ayafangirl
Summary: 2D sometimes likes to sneak into Murdoc's Winnie and try on his cape. Simply because it looks cool of course! Phase 2. Implied one-sided 2doc. Drabble.


Author's Note: I never claim to have much experience with Gorillaz canon. I have read but do not own Rise of the Ogre. I know that Murdoc's Winnie gets stolen after the filming of 19/2000, by that doctor guy, and to the best of my knowledge, it remains stolen. But then didn't the MTV Cribs happen during Phase 2? So does he get a new Winnebago, or find his old one? I'm a little unclear on this. Whatever the case may be, please accept that this is set in Phase 2, and for whatever reason, Murdoc has his Winnebago!

This is an extremely minor detail, but I just want to be as accurate as possible lmao.

So anyway, enjoy the little drabble! :)

 **Cape**

It was his little secret.

Nobody had to know.

Sometimes, after a wild party, when bodies and bottles littered the floor of Murdoc's cramped Winnebago, 2D would find himself awake amidst a sea of snores. Rather than letting himself out, he'd get up and slowly cross the room. Murdoc would never flinch; the man had the uncanny ability to drink so heavily at his little parties that it was a wonder he didn't poison himself (he never did).

In the confidentiality of the dark, with not a soul to see, 2D would approach Murdoc's bed and pluck up his cape from the floor by the bedside.

Exiting the Winnebago was always a little more difficult, but despite his fear that surely someone would wake up when he turned the door handle, he always managed to make a clean getaway with his pilfered goods.

Once situated safely in his own bedroom, 2D, however groggy from the drugs and drinks he had taken in himself, would suddenly feel overcome with giddy excitement. Standing in front of the cracked full-length mirror that usually served as a dumping ground for laundry, he would carefully slip the cape over his narrow shoulders and secure it with its elegant skull clasp at the base of his throat.

Gorgeous.

Murdoc had never been clear on where the cape had come from. Perhaps he had received it as a gift from a prostitute in Tijuana, or maybe he'd bought it at a second-hand store in England. No one would ever know, but the cape he had started wearing once the band reunited was truly a beautiful work of craftsmanship, with a bloodred, velvet lining on the inside and a plush purple material on the outside, almost satiny to the touch, but not quite as shiny. 2D had no clue what the cape was made of, and there was no tag to indicate its origins. For all he knew, it had been a gift from Satan himself. But he knew that he loved it, and he could still remember how his throat had gone dry the first time he'd seen Murdoc strut out in it.

The fact that the bassist liked to wear nothing underneath the cape but a pair of briefs or occasionally a thong may have also contributed to 2D's state.

He was far from complaining.

The cape seemed to personify Murdoc: flashy, sexy, magnificent, and designed to be strutted about shamelessly. Normally, that's just what the bassist did.

But 2D had to admit that sometimes he liked to wear it himself, and revel in the taboo feeling of maybe being a bit like Murdoc.

With the cape secured on him, he let his arms hang loosely at his sides, and gently fisted some of the material, swishing it around him. Eyes locked on the mirror, he then arched one hand up, using the cape to cover half his face in a classic vampire-inspired pose he'd seen Murdoc do before. The effect was spooky and 2D, zombie aficionado, loved spooky.

Next he did a full-body spin. The layers of plush material continued to spin around him in a beautiful gothic trail even after he had stilled. Perfect.

Feeling especially cocky now, 2D stepped up onto his bed and sprang off its edge, watching with wide eyes as the cape spread out behind him majestically.

He landed on the floor with a thump and an awkward stumble, clumsy as ever in spite of how cool he looked.

Though, he had to admit, the cape didn't suit him nearly as well as it suited its owner. Maybe it was because 2D was so tall and gangly. Or maybe it was his shock of bright hair, yes maybe that was it: the cape was better suited for someone with raven-colored hair to complete the dark look. Murdoc's tattoos helped too; save for the "23" tattoo on his arm, 2D wasn't quite as edgy as the upside-down cross-inked bassist.

"Or it could be the nails," 2D mused, looking at his own nibbled nail beds and chomped nails, pink from nervous biting. Murdoc's nails were always long and sharp and terrifying; he could use his sharp nails as picks to play el Diabolo, and when he wore his cape and showed off those claws, the effect was chilling.

Having exhausted himself of his cool poses, 2D contented with sitting on the edge of his bed and wrapping himself tight in the cape so he could feel the soft material around his arms and back and shoulder blades. He pulled the collar close to his face and inhaled deeply, smelling the Lucky Lungs that Murdoc smoked obsessively. He could also vaguely make out the aftershave that Murdoc used, and he closed his eyes, letting images of the bassist fill his mind. How awesome he looked! Like Dracula or Nosforatu, or…wait did either of them even wear capes? Didn't matter, 2D figured. They should, because capes were bloody cool. The epitome of that deep, Byronic sense of isolation, corruption, and sin.

Mmm…

2D moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue and imagined Murdoc standing before him, wearing his cape, golden Satanic cross catching the light against his chest. His mismatched eyes glinting with mischief as 2D's hand slowly extended towards him. His mouth breaking into a wide, twisted smile as that hand landed on his chest and slowly pushed the two edges of the purple fabric apart, revealing more and more of his skin. 2D's pale fingers wrapping around the cross, pulling Murdoc close by the neck…

2D shook himself a bit, returning to the present and rapidly unclasping the cape. He slipped out of it and folded it delicately over his arm, blinking hard to ground himself. That had been enough of that. Time to return this and get some sleep: he was definitely overtired.

Tiptoeing back into the Winnebago, he returned to Murdoc's bedside and dropped the cape to the floor where he had found it, lamenting at the crumpled heap. He was half-tempted to hang it up somewhere, but god forbid Murdoc recognize that something was out of place. The bassist had already damaged both of his eyes irreparably; who knew what he'd do if 2D actually gave him reason to go after him.

He turned to leave, preferring to go sleep in his own quiet room instead of surrounded by drunken groupies and girls whose names he had already forgotten, but he froze, staring at the sleeping musician on the bed.

Murdoc was lying on his side, facing 2D. His legs were splayed out and his head was tucked into one bent arm, his lips parted slightly. He snored a bit, probably because of his bent, broken nose, and 2D couldn't help but find it a bit cute. Time seemed to pause, and the singer stood there for much longer than he should have, entranced by the rhythmic rise and fall of his bandmate's chest, the sharp protrusion of his cheekbones, the silken softness of his eyelashes and the peppering of stubble along his jaw.

He was beautiful even without the cape.

With that thought, 2D stumbled back, nearly tripping over an empty beer bottle, and quickly correcting himself. He made his way out the door and back to his room in record time, kicking is sneakers off and flopping into bed.

Yawning, he tried to put the evening's events out of his mind. These things simply happened sometimes. He got curious, wanted to be cool like his bandmate. There was nothing wrong with trying on a cape for a moment and harmlessly returning it. And even if it did feel like he shouldn't be keeping things from Murdoc, what the bassist didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

After all, nobody had to know his little secret.


End file.
